The Unhidden Truth
by BonusParts
Summary: Rise is a liar. Naoto knows this.


_Shin Megami Tensei and Persona 4, and all names and associated likenesses, belong to Atlus. Used here without permission._

**"The Unhidden Truth"  
>by Mayumi-H, AKA Bonusparts<strong>

Rise is a liar.

Not to be cruel, of course; Naoto knows this. For Rise is the rare tender soul who always gives more than she takes, so freely and with such extraordinarily unconditional love that it is difficult not to be dazzled and therefore unaware of just how much Rise lies to everyone.

But she does. She lies. To everyone.

Even to herself.

Naoto knows this, too. She has heard it, observed it, _felt_ it, even: when Rise hugs herself close to both Naoto's and Kanji's arms on their strolls along the river plain; or when she nuzzles sleepily between them, her hair tickling at Naoto's or Kanji's cheek, depending which way her head is turned; or when she slips, sweaty and slick, from one mouth to another, on the nights when Naoto or Kanji or both invite her to share in the finest expression of their affection. That is when Rise lies. When she giggles, or hums, or moans at Naoto or Kanji or both that she's never felt more happy, more safe, more loved than when she is with the two of them.

It is a very pretty lie, and it nearly always makes Kanji – and Naoto, too, she must admit – smile, and feel magnanimous and free.

But it is still a lie.

Because in those rare moments when Rise is alone – or perhaps simply pretends to herself that she is alone, so gifted is she at fooling people – with one or the other of them, and her body is relaxed and her voice more relaxed still, she speaks words that she knows quite well she should not say in such moments. Because it is a very specific rule of their engagement: that Rise is there for Naoto and Kanji to share, not for either of them to keep.

But Rise, to spite the rules, says the words anyway:

"I love you."

She whispers them to Naoto, on the evenings when she stays past the time when Kanji returns home to the shop, and they cuddle up, side by side, in the narrow bed; and Naoto has heard her whimper them to Kanji, too, in between rhythmic gasps, just before Rise cries out at her climax.

The happiness and security and love Rise says she feels with the two of them is a lie. Because what Rise truly wishes is to be not their third, the flirt shared between them, coaxed and summoned on regular occasion to a bed or bath or wherever the flame of their desires arise. But to be a true partner, the focus of a love not divided.

And that, Naoto cannot allow.

So she distances herself from Rise. Slowly, at first, because in her heart she does love the idol, and there is no greater pain Naoto thinks she could ever feel than the sight of Rise's tears from her rejection. The calls and messages from Rise, to join her for a walk along the river plain or a coffee at the kissa-ten (or even something sweeter that does not require going outside), are met with carefully-executed and impervious excuses of work and research and even simple exhaustion. And Rise accepts them, easily in the beginning because they are so well-executed and so impervious...but then with growing disappointment, as the excuses become more common, more regular, until they barely have contact outside of group social functions.

Naturally (and as Naoto has deduced – even hoped – would occur), this distance between the two of them causes Rise to cling closer to Kanji, so much so that it becomes not uncommon to see the idol and the tailor walking beside each other along the Samegawa or sitting together over Masala Coffee and hot bocha at the coffee shop (or even to hear, carried on the late-night breeze, their grunting groans and ecstatic whines from the open windows above the textiles or tofu shops, after the street closes down for the evening and the merchants are shuttered up inside).

And when Naoto sees them together, from the azumaya on the hill overlooking the river, or up the block from the kissa-ten, or from the southern corner of the street as they walk into Marukyu or Tatsumi Textiles with their hands clasped around each other, she smiles to herself for Rise's happiness.

But her distance from the idol does not affect Rise alone, and so Naoto tells herself that she should not be surprised when, a few weeks after she has put this plan for Rise's joy into motion, Kanji comes knocking at her door, demanding in a low voice:

"We gotta talk."

"Are you in need of some assistance-" Naoto begins, when the big man pushes past her, kicking off his shoes at her genkan and stepping up into the apartment proper as if it were his own.

"Please, come in," Naoto mutters dryly at his back, as she closes the door behind him.

"What the hell are you playin' at?" Kanji says, turning around to face her from the middle of the room, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

She does not look away from his stare. "To what, exactly, are you referring?"

"You _know_ what I'm talkin' about!" Kanji retorts angrily, nearly shouting at her. "Rise-chan's out there," he says, swinging one arm toward the window and the outside, "thinkin' you hate her or somethin'. She's been callin' you and tryin' to get you to come out, and all you do is brush her off! You know, she came over last night, cryin' to me about how she doesn't know what she did wrong to piss you off."

The image of Rise's teary face makes Naoto pause, but she does not falter. "She has done nothing to upset me."

"Well, what else's she supposed to think, with you dodgin' her at every opportunity?" He gives a snort, then adds: "I don't know what to think o' you lately, either, to be honest."

Naoto feels her jaw tighten. Then she tells him: "Our distance is for Rise-chan's benefit."

"Upsettin' her is for her benefit?" Kanji counters, sounding more angry than dubious; Rise does tend to bring out his protective instincts.

Unfortunately, Naoto cannot help the sneer that comes to her lips at his answer. "She did not sound particularly upset the other night, after you visited her at Marukyu."

Kanji's nostrils flare, the stud piercing in the left one glinting in the lamplight, and he straightens up. But when he speaks again, the anger is barely evident; he sounds almost...wounded. "She needed somebody," he says.

Naoto nods. "And you were there to fill that need."

"Yeah!" Kanji barks, turning aggravated once more. "Because you weren't!" He leans toward her, his nose wrinkling like a dog's.

"She wants to be with you!" he tells her. Then he blinks, his jaw moving silently up and down for a moment before he adds, softly, "We both wanna be with you."

There is a beat of breath, and then she asks:

"Do you love her?"

It is not at all the question that Naoto intended to vocalize, but it comes out anyway. And then she realizes that it is the one question above all others that she needs to hear answered, truthfully.

He does not make her wait. "Yeah," he says plainly, nodding only once.

"And she loves you," Naoto says, with equal plainness. "She needs you. Ergo, you should be with her."

The pronouncement should not surprise him (she has, after all, heard Rise tell him as much, in those same words), but the expression that crosses his face is nonetheless confused. She is about to elucidate these facts to him, to soften the harsh lines that crease his brow, when he tells her, quite clearly and with no clipped speech:

"Naoto. I'm not _trading_ you for her. I want to be with both of you."

"It does not work that way-"

"Why the hell not?" he says, shouting again. "It was workin' just fine before you started over-thinkin' things-"

"I cannot be like her!" she cries. And for a moment, Naoto is unsure whether it is the abruptly frightened tone or the uncharacteristically loud volume of her voice that makes Kanji shift back a step.

Or if, perhaps, it is the gentle but wholly unforeseen fall of tears she suddenly feels trickling down her face.

So she sniffs, loudly and with a harsh grating noise that causes her sinuses to ache, and swallows back her unspent tears, the rough taste of them thick enough to make her cough.

"There are no longer any boundaries with Rise-chan," she spits between her lips, silently cursing herself for the momentary weakness of her resolve. "And without those boundaries, without _rules_, I cannot control what happens-"

"Ya can't control _life_!" Kanji tells her, the tendons in his neck straining visibly against his skin.

And in the abrupt silence of the room, Naoto stares at him, her mouth clamped shut in shock, as though he had reached out and slapped her.

Then, from somewhere, she hears the quick and anxious beat of a drum. The clamoring pulse grows louder with each half-second of time, until it is fairly thundering in her ears, and she has to shut her eyes and hold her breath, to try and keep her composure without shouting back at him.

It is her heart that is beating so loudly in her ears, making it difficult to think and rationalize and counter him in his argument. And then she realizes that it is not at all Rise who has been lying this entire time about who she is and what she wants, to herself most of all.

Naoto is the liar.

The hardwood floor creaks, once, as Kanji takes a step toward her; she can feel his looming presence close on her, smell the familiar scent of freshly-washed cotton and delicate metal that has always adorned him. And then she hears him swallow, and blows out a breath he has been holding between his lips.

"No one's askin' you to be anything more than what you are," he murmurs. "Or anything more than what you're ready to be."

The softly-spoken words make her open her eyes again at last, and at the same moment she pulls a long and weary – and cleansing – breath of her own. She looks up into his distinctly handsome and powerful face, her gaze tracing the faint lines around his mouth as he smiles, gently, at her.

And something like a smile comes to her lips, too.

"I do not wish to be alone," she mutters. Her voice is hushed, but he seems to hear her, because he shakes his head.

"You don't gotta be," he says, his voice equally quiet. "I'm here. And Rise-chan's here. All you gotta do is come back."

So she does, into his arms briefly in the dimness of her apartment, and then shortly thereafter in the little room above the tofu shop, where Rise presses her teary cheek to hers.

"Oh, Naoto-chan...!" Rise croons, pulling away enough to kiss at her lips; the taste of tears in her kiss is salty but also somehow sweet. "We're just not complete without you...!" she says, just before kissing her again.

Naoto lifts her hand to Rise's cheek, wiping carefully at the tears trickling down the idol's face. Then she presses her body to Rise's, nuzzling into the voluminous curls that she has missed feeling tickle at her skin, and whispers to her, for the first time, the unhidden truth:

"I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTES:<br>**In my timeline, the threesome of Kanji/Rise/Naoto come together as a unit, all for one and one for all. But nothing in life is ever so simple as other people see it, and I wanted to take an opportunity to examine this arrangement between the trio of kouhai that is unique even in the world of threesomes.

Outwardly, Kanji and Naoto are "the couple" and Rise is "the third" who is brought in when the whim strikes. These are the rules to which Naoto refers. But I have always envisioned these three to be complete only when they are all three together; they're almost symbiotic, in a way. It's a non-traditional arrangement to begin with, but of course Kanji, Rise, and Naoto make it even more non-traditional, in their fashion.

Naoto's voice is perhaps traditionally the most difficult for me to find, but I had a fun time writing her this once. Now I'll give her back to those who write her better than I do. :)

_Written as part of the Persona-Pairings 2011 Theme Week over at deviantART. The rest of my stories and art for the week are over there, but let me know if you'd like to see them here, too._


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